Thoughts on "The Dance"...

November 07, 2014

Sixteen and dressed in my first "dress-up" dress, arm in arm with a dad who had bravely ventured into uncharted waters (Daddy-Daughter Dance!) all for the sake of giving his little girl a great 16th birthday - we walked into Wellman's Bridgeview theater in Valparaiso, Indiana for the sole purpose of dining on fancy food, dancing to the strains of Duke Tomatoe (his spelling!) and his All-Star Frogs, and spending the evening as buddies.

We giggled and ordered and chatted about all things silly. Dad's eyes sparkled with excitement as he discussed the invention ideas that were swirling around in his head. We ordered things familiar (meat & potatoes I'm certain). When dinner was over we sat and watched as other daddy - daughter combos took to the dance floor and politely, stiffly moved as if keeping mental time "one-two-three, two-two-three, three-two-three..." to a familiar waltz.

Soon we decided to join them. Dad, ever-so-politely-and-gently, holding me as if I were a fragile doll, danced with smooth steps, leading me across the floor like Cinderella dancing at the ball. "Hug me, Dad, I won't break!" I told him, giving him permission to hold me tighter as we danced the night away creating a memory etched in time - a memory from a lifetime ago...

Yesterday I visited my parents. Yesterday's visit was to a "rehab" center where both are in transition - where we all are in transition. They are adapting to living in an environment that will keep them safer than at home: no more falls down the basement stairs (that I just discovered has happened - how is that possible - I've been there almost EVERYDAY for decades!!!) with dad "doctoring" momma, thinking his tender care was enough... no more "deciding to lay right here because I was tired" - when, in fact, his muscle weakness (caused by Advanced progressive Frontotemporal Dementia) "caused him to lay down" on the kitchen floor, on his back for hours - while Momma walked blindly through the house looking for her honey - scared to death he had died because she couldn't remember him speaking to her when he'd asked her to help...repeatedly.

Their house had become evil to them, no longer providing a safe haven - a respite. When walking in and finding Dad on the kitchen floor, last week, and the subsequent hospital stay where they BOTH were admitted for 4 days - I soon discovered that I was not enough. I was - I am not enough. My love for them did not protect them enough. Their every day care: personal needs, physical needs in the environment, and running the end of their business - in each area I AM NOT ENOUGH. They need more, better, additional.

The amazing care teams at the hospital (each in separate hospital rooms for 4 days- what a challenge!) were not enough. Staying there 'round the clock with them, devoting most of my time to the little girl who wondered where her sweetheart was - who has no current memories but darned-well remembered "oh honey, your dad scared the STEW out of me! I've NEVER been so SCARED, finding him on the floor!!!" - kept pulling out IV's in attempt to leave her bed and find him - she had to find her love - her honey, her sweetie. I was not enough to comfort. Not enough to keep her safe from herself. She needed more care than I could give - more than the nurses and the aides and I could give, together.

He, mid deeeep-sleep, would reach his right hand out patting, looking to touch familiar legs he'd traveled through life with - finding only the hospital-bed railing and settling back down, once again... until apnea would cause him to awaken and reach for her again... and again...and again. He'd awaken and seek her. Feeling his body betray him, he often discovered he'd had an "accident", with no prior warning. Although he has more memory intact, the damaged part of his brain creates a situation that his muscle control is deeply affected, now with hands shaking, demonstrating Parkinson's - like muscle tremors, all part of the FTD (Frontotemporal Dementia) and it's debilitating effects on his body. I am not enough to keep him clean, or safe, or balanced and off the floor.

The hospital staff created a situation where mom could visit dad's room - all day.

Meals were delivered to both of them, as we placed them facing each other in rolling recliners, locking the wheels with one bedside tray between them- as they ate breakfast and lunch ("oooh, yum yum!" mom would exclaim) each happy as clams while rubbing each others' feet under the table, giggling like school children, and sharing their "how we met" story a thousand and one times, to people who truly honored them (while other buzzers were going off all around them).

Their love: demonstrated in smooches, hand holding and the palpable DRIVE each had to be reuinited with each other - indeed, their devotion to each other resonated through out ER, the cardiac unit and through out their entire care team. Their love was transforming to all who witnessed it.

Throughout their stay, I was told multiple times, "oh they remind us of the Notebook", and one doc stated: "I'm not generally a fan of 'chick-flicks', but your parents remind me of 'The Notebook' ". I've not seen "The Notebook", and as life progresses as it does with often the forest hidden by the trees, I kept thinking: "which part? the enduring love? the memory loss? the incontinence? the fear? which part?" Still seeking enlightenment, I inquired of a few of the nurses who had loved my parents with ever-so-patient care, who tenderly advised me (with tears brimming their eyes): "honey, I don't think I'd ever watch it, if I were you... Nope, don't..."

The doctors, case workers, social workers all danced the most lovely dance this past week. From the moment my parents arrived in their care, they created an opportunity for both parents to stay TOGETHER - to receive ongoing, around-the-clock care - to help them "transition" to "rehab" where they will receive nurse-skilled care "until they are stronger"... allowing me time to get their affairs and finances in order so that all they've worked for all their lives - will take care of THEM, now...

As I left them, yesterday, after our sweet visit - reaching for my Dad I was transported back to our Daddy/Daughter date 39 years earlier. Yesterday, he, once again hugged me with an ever-so-gentle touch - this time, not as the "fragile doll" from our dance... this time was accompanied by a distant look in his innocent eyes waiting to walk down the hall for dinner. "HUG ME, Dad! I won't break!" I heard the words escape my mouth. In an instant, a sparkle shot out of his eyes, his face regaining a presence of mind as he giggled and began a story to the sweet little aide: "I took my daughter dancing one time, and that's exactly what she said to me: "Hug me, Dad, I won't break!"

Momma patted his arm, grinning ear to ear: "see honey, I knew you'd have a great time together" (ah-ha! SHE was the date-instigator! thanks momma!:)

The aide holding momma's right hand, momma's left hand holding pop's right hand walked hand-in-hand toward the delicious smells coming from the dining hall. As we walked together, momma repeatedly stopped to smooch her man and he repeatedly grinned as he smooched her back -giggling that they had already had "dessert"...

Sitting here writing, I was hoping that pouring out these thoughts would help purge my heart of the pieces that are broken. I cannot be enough. While this knowledge is a gift, this knowledge is also a curse - for in coming to terms with the enormity of this truth - I face the rest of their days knowing there will be others who will help them live safely. There will be others who receive the benefit of seeing unconditional, enduring, transforming love in action. There will be others who receive the gift of a heart-felt compliment by a little elder girl who can't see them who will tell them: "you look so pretty today!" (and means it!)...

... alright, I get it. Time to release them to share their love with their new environment. In releasing them they are free to be Love to their planet.

(Oh Lord... they are yours. Thank you for my parents and their example to my life. Use them to reach their world - exactly where You place them, and help me release them to YOUR care. Thank You, God, for comforting them and giving them Peace amidst these changing circumstances... Please Lord - HUG THEM, Abba (Daddy) , so THEY won't break... Thanks, Lord... Amen.)

July 22, 2012

Yesterday I was responsible for an "estate yard sale" for my parents... both of which are in an Alzheimers' unit.

Dementia- the evil beast that it is - took rational thinking and spent all their liquid assets before rational thinking of outside observers (family, dear friends, doctors & I) realized and intervened.

The idea of liquidating someone's assets (for them) who:

#1 don't know about it

#2 don't know about it but are required by "law" to "pay back" (until all $ value is gone)

breaks my heart.

While during the sale I loved watching people smile and glow as they purchased and provided new homes for old things... it was bittersweet.

A "must" - this liquidation is. While it is a requirement, by Medicaid, for my sweet elders to receive the oh-so-vital care they require - the "must" generates a grief in my heart that is so so heavy.

Today, unexpectedly, I was reminded that my Lord, my perfect Father, in His love for me, feels this sorrow that I feel.

I was also reminded that in His love for THEM - He, through this SUCCESSFUL "liquidation sale" is providing for their very-capable care.

Truly a win-win...(regardless how I "feel").

I look around and see those whom He has placed in my life to be what I cannot be. I see His wisdom and strength (when I am so weak in some areas in this process) manifest in those who stand firm when I waver. I am protected by those who see, truly see my "state" and say: "I've got this"... my Lord is loving me, through people.

So, I give thanks, dry the leaking eyes that have been welling and spilling all-to-easily lately, and smile, knowing my capable FATHER is holding us all in His loving arms.

Thankful for comfort He provides in the most unexpected places and ways...

Passages to strength Come in many forms and lengths, Survival of the fittest, The biggest Lessons learned Appear only when earned, When fate turns Its back on you, Misconstrued, Subdued With questions of how and why, Will I die? How many tears am I able to cry? The inquiries never seem to subside, Outside, I am a warrior-Braveheart if you will, Yet within the walls of my ivory skin lies a disease that will kill At will With no prejudice or bias, Ready to guide us To our Maker of life

Where there lies no strife, Maybe finally a day of peace The heartaches will cease, But my soul tells me to get up and fight It is not my time to go towards the light, The flight That is destined for me Is to be The leader of every community To help them see It is not about you or I – it is about we, I will not be added to the list of the deceased

Time of death 12:43, Any demon can be defeated As long as in the Lord’s hands you are seated,

(sigh)

I AM HERE And yet you have been gone for slightly over 2 years, And it’s amazing how my smiles take the place of those tears, I now hope…instead of fear And I pray that my message to all is crystal clear, I stared Cancer right in the face Not with anger but with womanly grace And told it to get the hell out of this place!!!!

July 11, 2011

NWIN Law Enforcement Cops for a Cure will be heading to Chicago August 5 - 7 to walk - on purpose - 60 miles in 3 days. All for an amazing cause...

The following is a re-write of an article written in August of 2007 ..

Having just completed walking 60 +/-miles in 3 Days,with hundreds of emotional moments and sound bites replaying in my mind, the one that resounds loudest was sitting on the concrete steps, adjacent to the Michigan Ave sidewalk, East of Randolph, at Millennium Park (Chicago) - less than 2 miles from FINISH LINE!!

Walking past him, at approximately #1200 out of #2400 walkers, "he" sat there shaking his head "no" (side to side) repeating this chant: "Walking ain't gonna cure breast cancer!"

Over and over...

"Walkin' ain't gonna cure breast cancer."

He continued shaking head no, no, no - looking at anyone who would look at him, square in the eye...

"Walking ain't gonna cure breast cancer." Over and over he shook his head and repeated his chant...

Not being able to stand it any longer, and in my most intelligent of replies I retorted "well walking is doing a lot more than you are just sitting there, buddy."

Did I REALLY just say that?

Yep, now THAT was an intelligent, educational, kind and enlightening reply.

Wow.

The day before, Day 2, thousands were walking -a mammoth SEA of Pink: BOOBs on sun visors, BOOBS of various NAMES written all over shirts: "Titty-titty Bang Bang", "Boob-i-licious", "Happy Hooters", "Boob Supporters", "Itty-BItty-Titty-Committee", etc.

There were PINK ribbons, PINK hats, PINK boas, male cops and firefighters in PINK shirts directing traffic and cheering the walkers on. It was a virtual PINK FEST and a lady approaches the gal I was striding with at the time and asks: "what is all this pink for? what's the walk for??

Curious lady vanished into a local storefront - most likely licking her wounds... ouch...

There's something about being a cancer survivor (like my bristling friend) or co-survivor or Breast Friend Forever of a breast cancer survivor- that makes one sensitive or passionate (both, actually) about this disease. Hmm, could be simply the "life and death!" factor...or the possibility that our children could grow up motherless that surely makes us a tad sensitive...

And we who are possessed with the spirit of advocacy, of awareness of the need to fight in a compassionate army - and battle in a war for healthy bodies - we PRESUME people "get" us.

get "pink"

get "it"

But the realities are this: 1) Pink is a color 2) Pink will not cure breast cancer --wearing pink on our head, pink bra over our clothes, pink ribbons pinned all over our bodies while walking and passing out breast health information and sharing the importance of early detection - does NOT cure breast cancer NOR does it mean just because it matters to me that it matters to the rest of the world...

Which brings us to walking... "walking" in and of itself truly WILL NOT cure breast cancer. As much as it troubled me what the smart-butt guy said - "walking ain't gonna cure breast cancer" - he was right... it will make us feel stronger, create a healthier body ... but it won't CURE...

BUT: walking in the midst of a compassionate army - makes the army feel stronger, and less alone in the battle

BUT: walking through sleepy or vibrant communities generates curiosity and curiosity often breeds awareness and awareness results in more people understanding that EARLY DETECTION SAVES LIVES, which also raises awareness of the need for regularly performing BSE 's (Breast Self-Exams) , which create people who want to DO something because either THEY have breast cancer, or someone they adore does - which converts a previously- complacent-lalalala lady walking into the neighborhood drug store into someone who wants to DO SOMETHING, to MAKE A DIFFERENCE in the world, which turns them into active warriors to fight in this army, raise vital funds for investment in research that we believe will one day SOON - not only find THE CURE, but will find the CAUSE of cancer - breast cancer - all cancers.

Until no one has to ask what all the pink people are walking for...

Until no one has to say "walkin' ain't gonna cure breast cancer"... for the only reason that BREAST CANCER WILL NO LONGER EXIST IN THE PRESENT BUT WILL ONLY BE FOUND IN A HISTORY BOOK - until THAT TIME...

...we walk

... in pink.

(can't wait to get rid of all the stinking pink in my closet... can't wait until pink is just a COLOR)

June 30, 2011

"That's weird" I thought to myself, while rushing to make a medical appointment on time. "That lady is just standing there holding an empty dog leash but not looking for the dog and she's right in front of a clinic - sure is a weird place to let your dog use the bathroom". But I dismissed the thought and quickly drove past on my merry way.

Appointment over, and exiting the complex (a bit slower this time) I saw the same woman still standing by the road (how many times does a dog need to use the bathroom in 2 hours?) holding what I then recognized was not a dog leash but, instead, were prayer beads. I was stricken by the realization of what she was doing: she was earnestly praying while standing at the edge of the parking lot in front of a clinic. One woman standing there - praying.

That realization, coupled with the "planned" nature of the clinic she was praying in front of, sent an immediate shock-wave through my being. She - brave and passionate - chose to stand alone to make a difference.

Driving past, I felt the nudging of an Unseen Hand upon my back encouraging me to turn around - and turn around I did. Driving past, this time from the opposite direction, I saw four giggling young girls and two young boys bouncing along as they prepared to enter the clinic... and while, they in their casual way went about their business, the brokenness in the face and demeanor of this lone woman, again, caused such a stir within me that I knew I had to say or do something.

Turning around, yet again, I drove up, pulling along side the curb, rolling down the passenger window, I heard myself calling out to her: "excuse me, ma'am!". Deep in prayer, it took a couple of times before she heard me... but I knew I had to briefly interrupt.

"Yes?" she inquired. "You need to know your passion and your committment are most beautiful things." I heard myself say. Her eyes lit up as if she had just heard from the Father, and standing straight, tall, and lovely she replied - in a most elegant, refined, gentle yet fervent tone : "Oh THANK YOU! Oh THANK YOU! God bless you!" as a grateful, re-energized smile graced her lovely face, she then bowed her head and immediately returned to her mission.

One solitary woman - not a crazed lunatic, nor a "thumping", rude, arrogant, opinionated scene-maker - this woman was driven by love - absolutely by love. She risked ridicule and rejection just to pray for people who were seeking the life and death choices offered to them - people who would probably never know her name who might have also thought, if they even glanced her way, that she was standing there with an empty dog leash... Oh, but this Solitary woman -- passionately driven - loved them and the decisions they were facing. She loved them enough to earnestly, intently speak with the Father about them.

The "bigness" of her mission deeply struck me: while these young teens probably believed their situations or intentions were hidden - were not known (probably by their parents or any other loving adult) this woman was crying out to Heaven in their behalf - praying for someone elses' daughters and sons. She loved as He loves...

I don't know what all changed yesterday - how many prayers were answered. I don't know who may have gone into that clinic with one idea but exited with another idea. But I do know this: I was changed yesterday - forever changed by the passion, the risk, the love and courage of One Solitary Woman.

"Lord, my mission is not hers. My mission is Yours - be what You desire me to be in order to go where, and do what You send me to do... so send - me."

June 27, 2011

Initially, upon reading and dissecting it's intent, I pictured only wanton carrying-ons completely different than who I really am... but upon further contemplation have seen far more truth to it than I'd realized. However, in exact OPPOSITION! I need to RETURN to who I "really am"!!!!

Who I've become - is NOT the "real me".

In assessing and reassessing, I would have to agree, that I truly do need a vacation from the girl who has dwelled within this Earthsuit the past few years. This girl is one who has visited stress and fear and overwhelm far more than she has ever been accustomed to. These places I've visited - since 2007 have become all -too-familiar "friends" (gee with friends like these who needs enemies!!!) and have left residual crud upon my normally-upbeat mind.

I need a PERMANENT vacation from this girl!

I need to return to the real girl who has been suppressed for far too long. While during these challenging days/years I've had multiple snippets of abundant life! and joy! and peace! through people on the planet - amazing people who have enriched my life beyond measure: family, friends - who through unexpected Kairos / God moments have hit me at the most random of times. It was these moments where I've been reminded that I am held and loved - and am truly not alone. yes!

Getting away from this current girl is a process, for sure. Awareness of the emotional holes I've dug for the past few years is the first step in climbing out of them! WOW , am I aware! and boy are there some well-dug holes!

A few years back I would have been one of the first to tell someone in a similar frame of mind: "joy is not related to your circumstances - there can be Joy regardless- rise above!"

Yep just hit 'em with a quick fix and run. gross

What did Christ, Himself, do when met with grieving family of a brother who was his dear friend? He grieved with them first - empathized WITH them - he FELT their pain ... then He proceeded to raise Lazarus from the dead!

Here I am, an older dog learning a new trick. (Yes! it IS possible!)

The significance of what I've learned is transforming for sure : when pain or struggle is "shared" (spoken) it's usually not shared with the intent of seeking to receive an answer of "how to FIX" the issue. A "how to" (we think we have to supply) is akin to applying a band-aid over a festering wound and is NOT empathy or healing. It is simply the equivalent of waiting 30 minutes for the doctor, who finally enters the room - leaving! then gives us 2 minutes to describe what brought us there to begin with, being interruped mid-stream, being handed a "prescription" , dismissed, with doc walking out, left alone with the dizzying thought: "what!?!?" and exiting to pay the co-pay - with no more clarity or peace than we felt when arriving . (haven't we all been there???)

I have not needed to know HOW to overcome the dark cloud I've invited to hover... I needed to SEE the Hope and Light and Joy! in others in order to recognize what I've been missing and yearning for.

Wow...

For all those of you who have touched me - in so many ways: laughed with, loved on, encouraged, spent time writing notes of "wow, I'm so sorry and am praying for", or picked up the phone to text or call me out of nowhere to tell me you were thinking of me and loved me : THANK YOU.

For those who have spoken to me with such tenderness and thoughtfulness and offered yourselves to be or do anything that would help when I don't even know what to be or do: THANK YOU!

For those of you who have nudged me with "hang on!", "you can do this!" and "you matter to me": THANK YOU!

For all you who have looked EXACTLY like Christ to me - as tender hearted, loving, hand-holding, heart-touching Servants: THANK YOU!

Through you I have "seen the Light" and am returning to the Real "me".

While I'm sure, in this "land of caregiving" that I dwell in, that there will be even more challenges in store in the near future - I am confident, once again, that He has already surrounded me with exactly who I need in my life to shine hope and love right when it is most needed.

I declare now: I am commencing with VACATING the crud which will, indeed, be a most welcome VACATION! (and will better me for being HOPE to others!)